Toiling through the night

Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
      That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
      Beneath our feet each deed of shame!
All common things, each day's events,
      That with the hour begin and end,
Our pleasures and our discontents,
      Are rounds by which we may ascend.
The low desire, the base design,
      That makes another's virtues less;
The revel of the ruddy wine,
      And all occasions of excess;
The longing for ignoble things;
      The strife for triumph more than truth;
The hardening of the heart, that brings
      Irreverence for the dreams of youth;
All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds,
      That have their root in thoughts of ill;
Whatever hinders or impedes
      The action of the nobler will; —
All these must first be trampled down
      Beneath our feet, if we would gain
In the bright fields of fair renown
      The right of eminent domain.
We have not wings, we cannot soar;
      But we have feet to scale and climb
By slow degrees, by more and more,
      The cloudy summits of our time.
The mighty pyramids of stone
      That wedge-like cleave the desert airs,
When nearer seen, and better known,
      Are but gigantic flights of stairs.
The distant mountains, that uprear
      Their solid bastions to the skies,
Are crossed by pathways, that appear
      As we to higher levels rise.
The heights by great men reached and kept
      Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept,
      Were toiling upward in the night. 
Standing on what too long we bore
      With shoulders bent and downcast eyes,
We may discern — unseen before —
      A path to higher destinies,
Nor deem the irrevocable Past
      As wholly wasted, wholly vain,
If, rising on its wrecks, at last
      To something nobler we attain.

--The Ladder of St. Augustine, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I did not realize until tonight that I have never read The Ladder of St. Augustine in full. I only knew of the ever popular verse "the heights of great men reached and kept..."
And although that was sufficient to carry the depth of the poem, reading it in full brings another striking dimension to contemplate:

The longing for ignoble things; 
      The strife for triumph more than truth; 
The hardening of the heart, that brings 
      Irreverence for the dreams of youth; 

This year, I remember feeling angry many times at having my "youth" and inexperience thrown to me, told repeatedly that the young ones don't know any better, half boastfully half sympathetically, and fully condescending.

It does start conditioning the mind, making one wonder, "Am I thinking this way BECAUSE I am young an inexperienced?" Will it be the curse where the young and idealistic will never be heard and taken seriously and are powerless until they are older and hardened, and corrupted?

I have always associated this Longfellow poem (or the little I knew of it) as a positive one, telling me to keep working and not to slack. I am painfully lazy and quite allergic to working UNLESS I am entirely committed and engrossed by the work in which case I can easily forgo sleep and forge on. So it was good to be reminded that greatness only comes to those who keep chipping away.

But the more cautionary side of the poem precipitates feelings of negativity and a bit of hopelessness.

I was told today I do not have emotional resilience.
I could not disagree.
And yet I wanted to protest, I only get emotional when I feel injustice to my core!
-- but I realize that's the side of me that is more suited to live in the basement smoking weed all day complaining about how the man is always out to get you (because he is).

But I think there is more to me than that.
Funnily enough, this epiphany came from watching the new Spiderman movie today.

I was excited and had high expectations because people usually very critical about movies were lauding the movie, and even Zaki said it did the comics and old Spiderman cartoon (we watched the 1994 version) thorough justice. I am pleased that on the entertainment front, I was not disappointed despite my high expectations-- it was beautifully made and executed, the humor was spot on, the dialogue was believable, the characters all likable, fight and action sequences exquisitely orchestrated, and everything just oozed elegance, fun, cool-- which was what I always found most appealing about Spiderman. That easy grace & wit.

I did not expect to cry, but I did during the early scenes where fans mourned the fallen hero Peter Parker (maybe also thinking of Adib and other Malaysian firefighters being killed in the line of duty this year), and I cried again when Miles's dad monologued his feelings when trying to reach out to him after his Uncle died (probably continuing the tears from the scene when his Uncle died).

But the part that moved me the most was the statement, reiterated throughout the movie, that Spiderman "always gets back up" as well as Miles's dad saying "I see this spark in you".

It resonated because while I have some tendencies to feel beaten and to get down, I think somehow God always helps me get back up, to pull through at zero hour to do what needs to be done. It was a good reminder and felt even a bit like a calling.

God willing, I can be one of those people who keep getting up each time, climb a little higher, get a little wiser but hopefully not harder. God willing, with some toiling through the night, I can live up to my potential, and be more than what I am right now.

Costume and catchphrase pending.